


Tipping the Velvet

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Tom Riddle, Boyfriends, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Feel-good, Fluff and Smut, Getting to Know Each Other, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Heart-to-Heart, Intimacy, Kissing, Laughter During Sex, Light-Hearted, M/M, Marking, POV Tom Riddle, Playful Sex, Relationship Study, Short & Sweet, Some Humor, Teasing, Tenderness, Touchy-Feely, Trust, Vulnerability, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: It came as no surprise that Harry was evil in the bedroom, evil in that he was playful and was fascinated with Tom’s reactions. Especially when his partner had been edged since forever and if Tom wasn’t a saint, he would’ve flipped to get this over with.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Tipping the Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> **Challenge(s):** spelling out Tom and Harry’s full names through the first word of every sentence; tomarry smut because I’ve been wanting to write something for this duo, but couldn’t figure something until now
> 
> (In poetry, doing the first part of the challenge isn’t that hard. When it comes to narrative writing, it’s like pulling teeth.)

This shouldn’t come as a surprise and really, he should’ve seen it —  _ he should’ve known it from the moment he started dating this lion  _ — but Tom was ignorant, if you could believe that. Or more accurately, he was just thick as he struggled to come to terms with the laughter near his neck. Meandering sweetly beside the bites and the kisses left behind, trailing slowly and then unwinding when Harry burrowed into his side.

Mistakenly with his forehead, rather than his hands or his hips, as if neither of them could compare to the nuzzling he could do here. As he marked Tom like a present and unfolded him as a gift, taking his time near the jawline before savoring him on the lips; as he roamed Tom with a whimsy and there was a fondness to his stare, marveling the parts of him that could rival any kingdom or treasure; and as he bumped and brushed and breathed into him, as if mapping all the pleasures he was fetching to do again, before kissing Tom on the nose and feeling him with his hands. Veering them swiftly from where they were and intertwining them around his boyfriend’s, and there was that laughter once again when Harry wound him like the world.

Or if Tom were honest as he buckled, trying to wind him in another way, Harry cuddled and hugged him as if an hour didn’t exist — as if minutes before this laughter, he wasn’t pushing him near a ledge; tempting him to fall over so Harry could catch him and do it again. Like it was a mission sent from God or from Merlin when he looked at him, like there was nothing he’d rather do than to split him upon his name. Or if that weren’t heated or if he felt it was rather tame, there were a few things in his mind that jolted Tom to the core and if he wasn’t loose before, this about sent him to the threshold. Rattling, shaking, trembling in the darkness and with nothing other than a shoulder and curly locks for purchase.

Ideally, he would’ve felt a rush of sanity at that moment and could pinpoint when exactly he was falling over for this man; but instead, there was  _ laughter  _ and it was as cruel as it was kind because it overtook all the tension that had been building for quite a while. Damning his every chance of finding closure from this nonsense and you couldn’t blame him for being frustrated when Tom wiggled for some movement. Digging for anything other than this, all this  _ softness  _ coming back at him — before Harry pulled away and was kneeling at the sight of him, hands tucked near his waist and strolling the hipbone coming to meet them. Lively while everything else was as still as their breathing, neither doing each other more until there was something that ought to push it.

_ ‘Either enjoy this or forfeit’  _ — the words were heavy in the darkness; heard more from Harry’s breathing than from anything he ever said, and the way he meant it was so tender that he could’ve been pudding in Tom’s hands. Had Tom been the one doing this, doing the pushing instead of him, until Harry was as red as the color his own House; but as it were and as it may, he was the catcher and the fallen. Arguably, neither at this moment but hopefully, he would be — when Tom sighed with a flutter and it blew a strand from his eyes, that alone was interesting since it drew Harry closer. Reeling him from his knees until he crashed along a beach, like a wave near a shoreline who couldn’t help but keep coming. Relishing and loving what it returned to every time, stirring the sand sprawled about it until it rocked into a rhythm.

Yielding and at last, Harry came to his senses and like a cellist before his instrument, he embraced Tom with all he had. Jittery were his fingers as Tom was reaching back, unsure if this was it or just the beginning for something else because he could feel a little smile starting to burn near his neck, catching fire across his body when Harry rolled him into the mattress. And there were chuckles of amusement and eyes filled with mirth, laughter lines for him to trace when Harry kissed him to oblivion — he might’ve murmured a bit of something about thickness and patience, but it was drowned out by a keen and from an arch splitting Tom. Meeting hip to hip, thigh to thigh, hands beside his head and his own looking for blood: there was too much and not enough and simply more that he wanted. Even though he was at his limit, and a breath could just shatter him.

Shuddering for a lifetime would’ve been worth it after all of this: after all the waiting and pushing, the simmering and back again; humor rising throughout his body when Harry met him with all he had. Perhaps he was laughing and doing so with his man because there was no way for him to contain all the emotions rushing through him. Or more accurately, if he were honest and if Tom could even say it, he was doing it just to see what Harry would make of it and by the summer in his eyes, this was exactly what he wanted. This  _ music  _ from the loveliest, the greatest instrument of his time; this  _ unabashed  _ and  _ heartfelt  _ piece of joy when Tom curled up and met him in the darkness. Touching him with his forehead, nuzzling into his warmth — chasing him for oxygen since Harry had stolen his.

Eyes finding his boyfriend’s and catching fondness through the back of them and if coherence was a thing and if it was bottled just for him, Tom drank it from that stare before he sank into the mattress. Riddled, from head to toe, with a boneless, deep feeling — there was nothing better than this, this armed tucked around him, when Harry held him like the universe and kissed his constellations.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr](https://joeys-piano.tumblr.com/) |[ Twitter](https://twitter.com/joey_wingster)
> 
> I’m not a big fan of physical descriptions or rigging a jigsaw of where the characters are; but if I can splash a bit of humor and some laughter to get me through it, I can treat this as earning up a level in this video game I call Life.
> 
> It isn’t easy to write smut without referring to certain things, but it’s very much possible and I’m getting it down to an art.


End file.
